A tulip of deep lilac
my sentiment to you
my key to your heart
thanking for all you do.

Its fragrance reminds me
of your sweet perfume
like your beauty these tulips
brighten up any room.

Your sensual beauty glorious
as petals caress your skin
delicately tracing your body
my desires your sin

Lilac tulips our love story
sweet romance they tell
you brought me to heaven
resurrected me from hell

Sweet tulips for my beauty
a symbol in the journey we take
a petal for each milestone
a role in each chapter we make

she responds in words as well
not in any beat but of the heart's,
she knows he can feel her,
no matter how far apart
she hears his voice in the sun
she feels his fingers in the sea
he's closing in on her
it's his, she longs to be

people tell me that I look like her
and maybe to them I do.
because they don't see what I see.

the beauty,

the wisdom,

the grace,

the strength,

all things impossible to obtain.

so when they tell me I look like her,
I politely decline.
because she's everything I strive to be,
not everything I am.

over millennia the question
     what is beauty
has occupied the minds
of great philosophers

museums, galleries, and private homes
     as well as public monuments
display the sculptures, paintings, texts, and movies
created by the artists of all cultures over time
with figures, colors, poems with(out) rhyme

looking at that variety
I do remember words of one much older
     “beauty is in the eye of the beholder”
Picasso speaks to one, Velasquez to another
some prefer Shakespeare, others e. e. cummings,
in movies we find Billy Wilder or Fritz Lang
right next to Eastwood or Sarandon

which of them we enjoy with great abandon
depends on whether  they can touch our heart and soul,
move us to tears, stir our thought,
or simply leave us speechless

we have that soft spot for the beautiful
reminding us that there are things that go beyond ourselves
     they touch us gently
     like the morning songs of elves

till suddenly the brilliance of human art
reaches the very depths of our heart

With eyes of restless mental fraught,
...in-kind with dancing dreamy thoughts,
and hope in lovelorn passion’s play,
prismatically amorous frenetic fray;
...yet your heart at apogee to mine today?

And if I say solemnity?
As you presage a beauty…

And if I say solace?
While you oh petulant beauty…

And when I premune peace?
You stir it with such beauty…

And as I yearn with much desire?
Commanded by your beauty!

Burning in my chest a fire,
An Eros to your beauty.

With eyes of restless mental fraught,
in-kind with dancing dreamy thoughts,
and hope in lovelorn passion’s play,
prismatically amorous frenetic fray;
yet your heart at apogee to mine today?

And you the beauty of my dismay. . .